Chapter 2 - the death certificate)
Luke Sterling had collapsed at 9:17 on Tuesday evening.
Jessica remembered the exact time because she had been standing eight feet away from him.
They had been in the library of their townhouse on East Seventy-Fourth Street.
Luke had just returned from an emergency meeting at Sterling Holdings.
He looked exhausted.
Not sick.
Not frightened.
Exhausted.
Jessica had poured him a small bourbon.
Luke had taken one sip.
Then he asked a strange question.
"If something happened to me, would you trust my mother?"
Jessica laughed.
She thought he was joking.
Luke didn't.
"That depends," she said.
"On what?"
"On whether you're asking me as her son or as the man who spends half his life protecting the company from her."
Luke had smiled faintly.
Then the smile vanished.
"My father left something unfinished."
Jessica leaned against the desk.
"What?"
Luke looked toward the library doors.
He lowered his voice.
"I found transfers."
"What kind?"
"Large ones."
"From the company?"
"From three companies."
Jessica frowned.
Luke had been chief executive of Sterling Holdings for eleven years.
The company had grown from an old East Coast manufacturing group into an international logistics, real estate and pharmaceutical conglomerate.
Luke knew every major transaction.
"What transfers?"
"Money moved through subsidiaries that shouldn't even exist anymore."
"How much?"
"At least eighty-seven million."
Jessica stared at him.
"Who authorized them?"
Luke opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
His expression changed.
He touched his chest.
Jessica moved toward him.
"Luke?"
The glass fell from his hand.
It shattered.
Luke stumbled.
Jessica caught his shoulder.
He tried to speak but no words came.
His knees buckled.
By the time the ambulance arrived, Luke was unresponsive.
Jessica rode with him.
Wendy arrived at St. Augustine Medical Center fifteen minutes later.
Frank arrived six minutes after her.
Dr. Keller was already there.
That had seemed comforting at the time.
Keller had been the Sterling family's private physician for almost twenty years.
He knew Luke's medical history.
He knew Wendy.
He knew Frank.
He knew every private weakness the family had ever hidden from reporters.
At 11:43 p.m., Keller walked into the waiting room and told Jessica her husband was dead.
Cardiac arrest.
Massive electrical failure.
Nothing could have been done.
Jessica remembered Wendy collapsing into Frank's arms.
She remembered Frank closing his eyes.
She remembered Keller placing a hand on her shoulder.
And she remembered one detail she had not understood until now.
Nobody had asked Jessica whether she wanted an autopsy.
Frank had arranged everything.
The funeral home.
The chapel.
The coffin.
The death certificate.
The private service.
Forty-eight hours.
Too fast.
Jessica had been drowning in shock.
She had allowed them to move around her.
Now, standing in the hospital while Luke fought to remain alive, she realized grief had been the weapon they needed.
Detective Cole stood beside a glass wall outside the intensive care unit.
"Tell me everything Luke told you Tuesday night."
Jessica repeated the conversation.
Cole listened without interrupting.
"Did he name anyone?"
"No."
"Did he say where the documents were?"
"No."
Cole looked toward the ICU.
Doctors had removed Luke's funeral suit and connected him to monitors.
He was breathing with assistance.
Toxicology tests had begun.
Jessica crossed her arms.
"You knew he was investigating something."
"Yes."
"And you didn't tell me."
"He asked me not to."
"Why?"
"Because he didn't know who he could trust."
Jessica stared at him.
"Including me?"
Cole hesitated.
"Especially anyone close to him."
The answer hurt.
Jessica turned toward the window.
Luke had trusted her with almost everything.
Almost.
"What was the plan?"
Cole exhaled.
"There wasn't supposed to be one involving a coffin."
Jessica turned.
Cole continued.
"Luke contacted me three weeks ago. He believed company funds were being diverted through shell corporations controlled by someone with access to legacy Sterling accounts."
"Wendy."
"He wasn't sure."
"Frank."
"He wasn't sure."
"Keller?"
"Keller wasn't on our list."
Jessica looked down the corridor.
Keller had disappeared shortly after Luke arrived.
"Then why was Luke declared dead?"
"That's what we're investigating."
Jessica's voice became quieter.
"How does a living man get from a hospital bed into a coffin?"
Cole looked grim.
"With cooperation."
A nurse approached.
"Mrs. Sterling?"
Jessica turned.
"Your husband is conscious."
She moved instantly.
The nurse raised a hand.
"Only for a few seconds at a time. His muscles are still extremely weak."
"What happened to him?"
"We found traces of a neuromuscular blocking agent combined with a powerful sedative."
Jessica felt the floor shift beneath her.
"Poison?"
"Drugging would be more accurate."
"Could it make someone appear dead?"
The nurse hesitated.
"Under unusual conditions, dangerously low respiration and heart rate could be missed or intentionally misrepresented."
Intentionally.
Jessica entered the ICU.
Luke's eyes were open.
She sat beside him.
His fingers moved beneath the blanket.
Tap.
Tap.
Pause.
Tap.
Jessica took his hand.
"I'm here."
Luke swallowed.
His voice was barely audible.
"Files."
"Where?"
"Father."
She leaned closer.
"What about your father?"
Luke forced another word.
"Clock."
Then his eyes closed.
Jessica looked toward Cole through the glass.
Clock.
Luke's father had been dead for nine years.
But one object still remained untouched in the Sterling family mansion.
May you like
A six-foot walnut grandfather clock that had belonged to Luke's father.
And Jessica suddenly knew where they needed to go.
